This novel introduced Jack Parlabane, who joined the ranks of Tartan Noir with quite a bang. On the run from a hit man in Los Angeles, where he had been working as an investigative journalist looking into financial crime, Parlabane returns to his native Scotland, and takes refuge in an Edinburgh apartment loaned to him by a friend. His timing is not great as while he is struggling to recover from the combined onslaught of a monster hangover and major jetlag, someone is murdered in the flat below. Still disoriented, Parlabane wanders out to see if he can borrow aspirin or something similar (and preferably much stronger) from a neighbour, and inadvertently locks himself out. Seeing that the door of one of the other flats is open, he wanders in, and finds himself in a particularly messy crime scene, with the resident murdered and the flat in mayhem. Just as he is attempting to climb through the widow back to his own flat, he is apprehended by the police, and taken in for questioning.

After such a spectacular and gripping start, the novel goes from strength to strength. I have always had a strong liking for any books set in Edinburgh, and this is a worthy addition to that already large genre. The plot is too convoluted for me to attempt a worthwhile synopsis, but it gripped me from the beginning, and never let go.

There is a strong element of the grotesque throughout the novel, although this does not detract from a very sound story. ( )

Enjoyed it very much but not to the point where I'm going to read everything Brookmyre has written..It was fun and an easy, fast read. ( )

It's been so long since I read a Parlabane book. I've missed him. ( )

I hope the rest of the series is as good as this one, which was fantastic! I relished the black humour, the characters, the Edinburgh setting, even the opening scene that was gross in its array of bodily fluids and yet had me laughing out loud. I loved the idiomatic words and phrases too. Thankfully, Brookmyre doesn't shy away from using them. Journalist Jack Parlabane is investigating why he was threatened at his last job in L.A. and had to leave the country, which led him to another story in Scotland. Are they connected? The newly formed National Health Service Trust is diverting money to the executive offices instead of hospitals. And diverting bodies too... ( )

What an entertaining read! Reminds me of when my father went into the hospital for the last time and the ICU dr said why bother, he's going to die anyway. Or words scarcely cloaked to that effect. ( )